There are no recipes on this blog, no pictures of family get-togethers, pets doing cute things or snapshots of a baby doing the same thing in 20 different frames. Though if it did, it would get a ton more hits.
How rich is the person who invented the urinal cake? Think they could invent something for the two-foot radius on the floor below it?
Fewer children would get sick and die if we had a real health care system. I blame baby casket builders and pill giants.
Are these new brands of television shows now basically just watching people at their jobs, no matter how sinfully ordinary it is? Dog groomers, party planners, trash collectors, construction guys, a camera crew sits at someone’s menial occupation and they put that on TV? Is there a demographic that hasn’t been emblazoned on the Discovery Channel? Any monkey that punches a clock or a socialite pig with a big chest has their own show. People sit and watch this? Yes, Reid, yes they do.
Why do people have bumper stickers? I’m going to print one that says “Bumper Stickers Are For Idiots”, because for some reason the woman ahead of me at the red light thinks I need to know that she voted for a presidential loser 8 years ago. Way to go. She also feels it’s important that I know she supports abortions and that her car runs on some alternative fuel. Then there’s the guy whose car alarm is a Smith & Wesson and that he eats vegetarians. Great. Now I know more about these two upstanding citizens than I ever wanted to. For some reason people think that I want to know what their politics or insights are when I’m stopped in my car. At least on a blog, you can just click on by, I’m just asking to get to the store without having to contemplate cute witticisms or instantly pigeon-hole what type of moron is ahead of me. I’m going to market a retractable device that comes out of my front bumper and attempts to peel off any bumper sticker that are already on 1000 other cars. It’ll be like the Hamburger Helper hand wielding a razor blade and turpentine.
I think when a dog scoots its butt across a carpet it’s the funniest thing ever. Unless it’s my carpet.